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A poem my father never wrote before he went bat-shit insane

TheDeceased

Ex-Bluelighter
Joined
Mar 21, 2000
Messages
1,720
Location
Beyond the Grave
Fucking slime-ridden artichokes baking in the sun
Screaming about lice and murder, tonic, gin and rum
Feelers creeping ‘cross the water
Lies to everyone
We filthy bags of skin and tissue, baking in the sun
Rolls and wrinkles hanging free
(How delightfully absurd)
Gray by colour and by nature
Carcass among the herd

What wonders foundation plays
Upon her sun-drenched cunt
Transformed pubescent and translucent
Alien, foetus = cum
Trails shame
Like a snail
Mind dribbling
Like my cock
Left or right,
C. Nile takes over
While I piss into my socks

Generations are compared
Against the norm (that’s us)
Cause generations have declined
They’re all deform and lust
Creatures of despair
Hiding out among the rough
While glorious we, milk our past
Inventing, moulding
Fuck.
(Why do we
beat down our children
when they’re out of luck?)
 
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